


Born

by wanderingsmith



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bonds, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14715728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/pseuds/wanderingsmith
Summary: "Balin!  Welcome back, cousin.""Thank you, lady.  How long has Thorin's mate been alive?"  He wished he were more surprised at the shocked reaction he saw.  "The Distracted head tilts as though listening to something far away?  Rubbing at his heart as it finally gets stitched back with its other half?  The peace growing in his eyes as the hole in his soul is finally filled?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the toys, I play with 'em.
> 
> another that was written 4 years ago... except this one is more like 98% done!! FFS....

No one could agree on when it actually began, likely because it began so weakly that it would only take him for instants, and appear as no more than normal distraction; even in retrospect.

The first change that he actually could, after the fact, remember feeling, was a very very faint itch in his chest. Like the ghost of a breeze whispering over his heart. And he would find himself running his fingers over his breast whenever he stood or sat distracted. Sometimes it was a loud ghost, or, more like, a hundred ghostly ants, legs tickling as they marched over the organ, leaving behind a different itch.

But in the end, Thorin remembered most the feeling of a whisper. Not words; not even thoughts. But, looking back, there was no doubting it was a mind, right from the beginning. He is certain that at first it would appear and then fade and he would forget the beguiling feeling as soon as it passed. But soon enough, it stayed; if only as a pale thread, most of the time. 

He supposed that he should have known it for what it was. But at his age, he had long since given up hope of such a thing happening. Had allowed himself the small mercy of forgetting the stories describing what he was missing. And there again, it began mostly 'asleep'; silent. Easy to ignore in the rush of the daily life of the king of an exiled people.

But when it *did* wake, Thorin remembered that he could not keep himself from listening, as though the wind from the depth of a mine was gently stroking over his thoughts. Its 'speech' was in impressions, feelings. He would sometimes *know* only that the presence had been awake, as though fog had walked at his side, lending an ear to the worries and annoyances in his mind, or providing simple comforting company in a quiet moment.

Other times he now knew he had felt an actual burst of feeling, usually joy; it seemed to be a very happy presence, often spreading exuberant arms of pleasure around his brooding thoughts, fizzing fireworks around him. Occasionally, he would feel grouchiness like a mutter across the back of his mind, and would find himself reflecting back joyful affection that he was hard-pressed to give any of the people around him; those were the times that had come closest to making him notice the situation, being such a strange reaction for him. Sometimes he would feel discomfort that would make him twitch in sympathy and worry, make him snarl at everyone near him, needing to do something.. and unable to even acknowledge it.

And through all this, he had not realized. Had dismissed it as strange daydreams, when he noticed his distractions at all.

\-------------------

Balin is quite proud that he was the first to realize what had happened. He had been away in Gondor for over a year, and when he returned, the Thorin that met him had calm, peaceful eyes instead of the pain and regret-filled angry expression his friend had worn since the fall of Erebor. And then as Balin frowned a worried question at him and began to report on what he had seen in his travels, for a moment he saw the king tilt his head eastward, eyes instantly forgetting Balin's presence and turning inward.

And it had not been so very long since Balin had seen that; he recognized the symptoms well enough.

Once he was done with his report, he hurried to the king's sister, wary of stepping on plans, if they were keeping it secret for a reason.

"Lady Dís?" With a lighter build even than Thorin, but a much fuller beard, the dwarrowdam was otherwise very like the king; including in the scowl that greeted anyone who disturbed her.

Though once she recognized friend from foe, her smiles were much freer. "Balin! Welcome back, cousin."

"Thank you, lady. How long has Thorin's mate been alive?" He wished he were more surprised at the shocked reaction he saw, "The distracted head tilts as though listening to something far away? Rubbing at his heart as it finally gets stitched back with its other half? The peace growing in his eyes as the hole in his spirit is finally filled?"

"*I* never did any of that!" she frowned at him, "Nor did my boys."

"Your Víli was already alive when you were born, as are many dwarrows' Ones. Or else they come into existence while we are very young; I hardly remember the change when Sila was born during my 6th year. But Thorin has lived 144 years without the other half of his soul. Without having ever known a bond in his mind. When you think of it, it must be confusing for an adult dwarf to suddenly find a presence in their thoughts."

She frowned, "I suppose it would be, but why would you think those particular.. symptoms, indicate the growing presence of a bond?"

"Dwalin."

"Ah. My apologies. I'd forgotten he was another late-bond," she smiled, "How *is* young Ori?"

Balin shrugged, "Almost of age. They are both impatient to complete the bond."

"I do not doubt it," she winced, "And now we will have *Thorin* stomping at the bit for the foreseeable future..."

\-----------------------------

Only a few months after Balin had pointed the situation out to her, Dís walked into her late-for-council brother's rooms to find him standing still, staring eastward with eyes wide with fear, shoulders and fists twitching as his eyes stayed in their faraway place without seeing her enter. Having a guard hurry to get Balin, Dís tried to get her brother to walk over to a chair, but he would not budge, every muscle stiff as he breathed hard, as though locked in combat.

"Dís?"

"Balin! Something is wrong!"

"Oh." She saw Balin smile a bit, walking up to the now-sweating king, "Thorin?" The complete lack of response to his voice made him frown, and Dís silently agreed; if he couldn't focus away from his mate *now*, how was Thorin going to cope as the child's mental voice became stronger with growing awareness?

"Well?"

Balin sent her a grin, "His mate is being born."

It took hours that Dís remembered all too well, bemused at the notion of her brother finding himself feeling the process from the other side. Though she did have to worry what would happen if something went wrong...

Sitting at his desk reading reports while she kept an eye on him, she suddenly saw Thorin shudder, his body jerking as though shocked, hands grabbing for his chest and skull with a loud gasp as she hurried to his side. When his head finally rose though, it was with a smile covering his face and making him seem decades younger, "He is born," he laughed, eyes bright, "My One... Dís.. I have a One!"

She smiled with him, sharing in his joy, "I know, my brother. I know. I am glad for you. ..He?"

"Yes. Strong. He rejoices, Dís." Her so-stoic brother laughed again, throwing his arms out as though to embrace the world, "He is so full of joy..."

She caught her breath in realization; her brother's joy that he had never seemed to have. 

Half of his soul.

It appeared that she was about to get to know the brother Mahal had meant her to have.

\-----------------------------

"Uncle!"

The still-new, deep, warm laughter that wreathed with her boy's much higher laughing protest made Dís smile helplessly, watching Thorin spin in place with his arms clamped under Kíli's armpits. He was only taller than the lad by the thinnest of margin, now, but he was still wider and stronger. And they both knew Kíli did not truly object to the embrace.

"Is uncle well, mother?"

The worry in Fíli's voice pulled Dís' attention to the boy standing at her side. "Thorin is fine, inùdoy, he is... happy."

"..Was he not happy before?"

The hurt quiet had Dís stroking reassurance into the lovely golden locks he had inherited from his father, smiling gently, "Your uncle.. was never whole before. He is a different dwarf now-" They both turned at the sound of a roar, watching their usually stoic king throw his head and arms back, standing on the edge of the still grass-covered cliff he had dragged his family to with an eagerness most dwarrows did not have for the world outside a mountain. 

Shouting wordless gratitude and challenge into the echoing valley bellow. And laughing.

Dís shook her head at the sight, hugging Fíli close and keeping an eye on Kíli, grinning back at her from a few steps away from her brother. "He wants to share his joy with us." The early fall sun shone off of dark locks and a simple tunic as Thorin once again whirled with the purest of joy. "Come." And she dragged her eldest to his brother and led them in a dance of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more ready, just want to give it a few more reads and the later sections needs a few extra words here and there
> 
> Dwalin, DOB 2772 as per lotr.wikia (118 when Bilbo born)  
> Ori, DOB not in lotr.wikia so I am making it 2812


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re-shuffling the chapter breaks a bit

Once his One was born, his new awareness of the warmth at the back of his mind was a constant draw. Resisting the need to reach out was a nagging itch only held at bay by the child's own occasional reaching out; and the knowledge made into law that he could hurt his so much younger One if he was careless. Luckily the closeness of the babe's thoughts when he *did* seem to extend out toward Thorin was just enough to keep the thirst for more contact from being overwhelming. But Thorin still could not help listening hard whenever the cloud retreated, even the bare hint of that whispering wind enough of a comfort that he had to try for it.

He was vaguely aware that he was, perhaps, permitting himself too much time buried in his mind. That his family and friends often gave him considering looks. That Dwalin seemed to believe he now truly needed bodysitting.

Walking away from the morning's council session a little over two month after the birth, Thorin had, as usual, been listening to the echoes that came from the presence in his mind. It was particularly loud today, a cheerful babbling brook that made him smile a bit, now that he was not forcing his attention and expression on the arguments of his councillors. 

Though it had been getting stronger almost every day, he still froze, shocked, when the change happened. 

"He.. he knows me!"

Dwalin, a step ahead, whirled and stared at him, even more shocked, though his words made it plain he had known exactly what Thorin was doing, "What?? That is impossible! He is still an infant! He can not know what you are! Ori was almost three before I felt anything like thought."

"Dwalin, I can remember enough, now, to know that he knew I was there before he was born. He has never deliberately reached to *touch* me before, but he has been aware, has *reacted* to my existence. And.. I simply did not think he knew *me*..." Because this time when the haze that was the bond in his mind had extended with the will of his One, it had not been a vague outflung arm. His One's emotions were even now *stroking* against his mind. A feeling of curiosity and welcome and devoted affection patting at him like a palm to his cheek and shining eyes meeting his. 

He forgot about reality, and was not aware of Dwalin catching him as he lost his balance, and then half-carrying him to the nearest empty room. Every bit of Thorin's attention focused on standing before the freely offered mist of personality surrounding him, and on not allowing his own to overwhelm. To control his wild elation at being loved, being accepted and cared for and- oh to feel so much! So much he had never had. He had to share it with the one who had brought him such a feeling! Even though it meant harnessing, leashing it into a fine mist to offer his tender One. To only lay his memories, hopes and fears, joys and failures, all that he was, open to touch if the babe chose. Wondering if it would perceive them in the same way as he felt its joy and grumpiness. 

Then, he was suddenly worried for its physical body while it was so strongly present in *his* mind. As though it actually understood- And surely it was impossible that actual thoughts travelled the bond without touch? Surely a babe could not comprehend them?- And yet it withdrew, and then stood near and sent a tendril curling around his worry before retreating again; he could almost hear a call for him to follow. And so he did, very carefully, unsure of how he could even be 'moving', and terrified that he was misreading the call and invading the child. But the babble was still there, still cheerful and loving; drawing him away from what felt familiar to Thorin's sense of self. But never far, always waiting for him to catch up.

And from one moment to the next, part of him was touching what had to be the actual bond between them. And he could feel his One, far away to the East. Could feel its mental awareness of a body: one with no pain or discomfort, only calm breathing. Obviously it did not harm the other to visit Thorin.

Still touching the bond, he felt the loving mist come back to him, slipping without hesitation into what the last few months had taught him to view as his self. And though it was new and possibly even odd to have those tendrils stroke through his thoughts and memories, petting as hands might -one day, by Mahal's will, too long from now though it must need be- through his hair, still he felt no fear; no shame or desire to hide. It was soothing, in truth. Healing. Reassuring. He stood still, still feeling great joy, but calmer now, content to feel his One's care fussing over his hurts, large and small; reaching out as gently as he could with the barest hint of his love to nudge and pet, laughing at himself for behaving like the pups he had seen in the villages of men.

Eventually, he felt the little one's body getting tired and he nudged more firmly, laughing and petting it a little more for its grumbles as it withdrew. 

When he opened his eyes, lips still pulled in the understanding smile for his mate, it was to meet Dwalin's scowling features.

"You should not reach for him, Thorin. The laws are there for a reason. You know this."

Instead of getting angry, as he knew he normally would at such a challenge, even from his old friend, Thorin simply shook his head, still reverberating with joy, "He reached for me, Dwalin. Would you deny, have you *ever* denied Ori when he spoke to you?"

"He is too young to know-"

"He knew what he was doing Dwalin. Knows I am not him. Knew where the bond between us lies in my mind -guided me to it!-, and no doubt in his own, though I did not go there. He.. was in a good mood. And wished to share it."

"..You were blind and deaf to the world, Thorin. I realize you dislike the notion of a bodyguard, but I insist you never evade me as you have before. And do not argue with any I set to watch you in my absences."

Thorin looked at the room, and frowned when he had no memory of being brought here. He turned back to Dwalin's worried features, "Very well." Since Dwalin, himself a late-bond, did not have these spells, surely Thorin would not long need such overbearing attention.

\--------------------------

Now that he knew the babe was aware of him as a person, and now that he knew how to find the bond, Thorin permitted himself to reach out; though he was careful, always aware of the gentleness of his One. At random moments reaching to send his love through the thread that was the bond, as fingers comb through hair or stroke a pony. And when frustration filled him, he would let his mind lean on the link to the fog of presence and rest, listening to the soothing breeze, however distant. 

And it just as often reached for him. And even more than before, it was all he could do not to laugh out loud from the sheer giddy joy the touch gave him, even if it was only a quick flick. When it reached for him with pleading arms and sadness, he no longer hesitated to wrap himself around it, sending every scrap of comfort and love he had, beyond content to know that he made his One happier with so little effort.

Once, the little one had come to him while he sat reading through a pile of guild contracts to be signed. Bored and tired but knowing it was his duty, having his One reach for him was a most welcome brightening to his day. 

That the little one was grouchy and seemed in pain was enough to make Thorin frown in worry, but nothing could take away his happiness at any contact. And when he hurriedly reached to touch the bond, all he sensed of the distant body was mild discomfort. Perhaps a stomach ache, or the 'colds' he always heard men complain of. The body still felt strong, and somehow healthy, in spite of the ache, so he made himself set aside the worry and focus on the presence that had ignored his inattention and continued to try to burrow into him.

It wasn't curious this time, wasn't trying to touch for the sake of touch. Instead, it felt as though it wanted to hide. Wanted to rest and be protected. Slightly befuddled, Thorin nonetheless did his best, wrapping himself around the mist, bemused to feel it condense until he could actually wrap around it. Wrap it in every bit of reassurance and affection he had.

And it settled there.

Thorin waited some moments more, but finally realized his One was truly tired and.. had wished to sleep.. with him. Wondering if it felt like this when Thorin let himself rest against it to listen to its voice, he focused back on his contracts, the quiet presence so close to the surface of his mind a pleasant warmth.

\-----------------------------

Knowing his family were concerned for him did not make him accept their interference a few weeks later.

"You need to guard your mind, Thorin. You cannot live buried in him. It is unhealthy and dangerous for both your sakes."

Thorin almost leaped at his sister as he snarled, the old familiar blind fury luckily pulled back as quickly as it had risen by a questioning thought from his One, "I will *not* deny my mate! He is too young to understand why I would do such a thing!"

"Not deny," Dís stood her ground grimly, used to her brother's furies, for all they had gotten rare recently. It helped that Balin and Dwalin were both near, as grim and worried as she, "Build a light shield between you; we all do this soon or late, Thorin, instinctively. It need only be strong enough to keep his mere existence from pulling at you so much at all times, light enough that if he calls you you will hear. We are not telling you to turn away from him; only to remember your own sense of self. He is strong, Thorin, just as you are. You could each drag the other to forgetting who each is. We do not wish to lose you. Nor should he be no more than a copy of you."

"I-"

"How many times have I caught you lost in him, Thorin? You frequently freeze in the middle of hallways, sometimes for minutes at a time."

"You even faded out during council last week, laddie. You can not do that..."

It was ironic that his One was the one to stroke his temper into calm, therefore leading him to accept the reason in the arguments. But however much he despised, at the deepest level, the very thought of restricting anything of the touch with his precious One, he knew he could not afford to become a burden, to fail his people out of inattention. Whether or not he could in time adjust, as Dwalin had, for now, a conscious shield was the only way.

It took a few days to reason out how to imagine a curtain in his mind. And then it nearly brought him to his knees the first time he forced himself to slide it across the bond. He had to rip it off immediately, crippling terror coursing through him at the loss of his One's full presence. Almost gibbering, he scrambled to reach for the bond, only to be tackled by his One. 

He had not the slightest inclination to defend himself, allowing himself to be surrounded and immersed in the other. When he surfaced from the overwhelming need for reassurance, he slowly understood that his One had been worried at the break in contact, but aware enough of his fear before the attempt to not be angry with him. 

With the understanding that his shield had not damaged the bond, he made himself calm and contemplate trying again. He could not help wishing this was not necessary. That the coming 70 years of waiting were done and he could go to his grown One. Could complete the bond and their minds be entirely together as they slept and woke together. Perhaps went to council together, even. His One could rule by his side, if he was willing. There would be no need for shields, then; they would not be so desperate for contact if they were entirely linked and knew they would be together within hours.

But for now, he sat in his room and slowly rebuilt the curtain, aware of his One watching. And when he shielded the bond, he made himself stay calm. He *could* still sense the existence of his One, barely. And he slowly lightened the curtain until he could just begin to truly feel him; and slowly memorized how to make the shield barely cover that. 

His One was still there. He could feel a presence. A far away murmur. And when he finally could make himself hold it for long minutes, he heard quite clearly when his One had enough of the separation and tried to reach for him.

Nothing could make him like it, but he accepted that he would have to maintain this shield while in public. But not one instant longer!

\-----------------------------

Dís took a deep breath, straightening in preparation to have to argue the room down, and her brother no doubt one of them.

"Enough. This will get us nowhere."

Dís' eyes opened wide, staring her brother as he *calmly* (!!) stared the council down.

"I have as little love of accepting such insulting accommodations, but we are demanding that they accept full price on our goods. We have all slept in worse; the traders will survive. And if they can keep their mouths shut and their weapons sheathed, next year we might have a foot to stand on. Our history does *not* offer us any such bargaining strength!"

It took an hour for Dís and Thorin, for the first time working *together*, to talk down all of the guild masters. One single glorious hour with her brother the king never losing his temper, even if he did shout. Instead of a week of drawn-out bargaining and negotiations for Dís while she or Balin tried to keep Thorin from making things worse.

After several months of worry over her brother's losing himself in his mate, she was reminded of the joy and hope she had initially felt. She would never want him to lose himself.. but she could not deny that having him suddenly control his temper was a change she could not help but approve of.


	3. Chapter 3

When Thorin's general miserable twitchyness changed to that listening pose he still often fell to when they were alone, Dís finally realized why her brother had been acting so strangely all day and leaned over to growl at him, ignoring the droning councillor, "Thorin! Shield!" It had been more than a year and a half since she'd needed to remind him, and even then he had not behaved so strangely. Dis frowned, concern trickling under her skin.

Thorin jerked upright, blinking, muttering distractedly, "...I.. I am." and then Dís saw fear break out across his features, "He is... He is weak! I.. I can barely hear-" 

Dís jumped at the crash Thorin's chair made as he rose gracelessly and then rushed out the door without a word. Growling, she gave Balin a nod as she followed her brother, unsurprised to find him saddling a pony.

"Thorin! You cannot go to him! The laws are there for a reason! Contact between you when he is so young could damage your future relationship!"

He did not even turn to her to answer, "I remember how you reacted when Víli died! You all say the way I feel him is so much stronger than it should be, do you truly believe it matters what might be changed of our future? If he dies I will be dead myself!"

Ignoring the cold twist of fear the words brought, no matter that it was almost certainly excessive melodrama on her brother's part, Dís tried to reason with him, barely resisting grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her, "You do not know where he is! And what do you think you can do even if you reach him? There is no reason to assume a childhood illness will lead to death."

About to mount, Thorin finally looked at her to snort with worried eyes, "You know very well I could find him blindfolded. And... I do not know what I can do, but I must try." His eyes grew distant, looking inside rather than seeing her, "He is... he has faded too quickly. I can almost see his death..." he shook his head, eyes focusing back on Dís fiercely, "I will *run* all the way to him if I must."

\-------------------------------

Frowning exhaustedly at the non-stop pounding, Bella hurried to and opened the door, carefully standing out of the way of the fist no doubt dropping again.

"You have a son born two years ago in September he is ill please let me see him please!"

Bella's eyes had widened, mouth open in shock at the rapid-fire stream of desperate pleas from the sweat and dust-covered, feverish-appearing *dwarf* on her doorstep.

"Please, I beg you-"

Snapping out of her haze as a sudden wild hope rose out of what was no doubt despair-born foolishness, Bella straightened, "This w-" before she could complete her words, he had bolted past her inviting arm, seeming to know exactly where to go even as she ran to follow him.

She reached the bedroom doorway in time to see Bungo with a shocked expression at the intruder, holding Bilbo whose eyes and arms were reaching for the dwarf, whimpering weakly. Their surprise visitor lunged forward and grabbed the fauntling, not seeming to even *see* Bungo, pulling the small body tight to his chest, a huge hand at his tiny nape. The infinite relief that appeared on the dwarf's features, even before Bilbo quieted and slumped on him with a relieved sigh, was difficult to comprehend from one who'd never met their child; let along one of *his* stoic race.

 

As soon as his hands touched the child's bare skin, Thorin felt the connection between them change, and suddenly the love and care he had been helplessly sending was pouring through the bond as though it were the very energy of life rather than mere sentiment. And he found he could grip the bond in his mind as tightly as any braided-steel bridge-rope and deliberately strengthen the weak child; even shield him away from the pain he had been feeling.

"Ghivasha." It was an utterly relieved exhalation, unaffected by his stumbling back against a wall as his knees tried to fail him. Nothing mattered except keeping his palm on his One's nape and focusing his mind on streaming every scrap of strength he had into its body through the new channel, and wrapping the tired mind within in love and safety.

He spared a thought to remind himself not to overwhelm the exhausted child, even accidentally, but otherwise concentrated on calming himself from the terror of the ride, too aware that his tired One could feel every clench to his old heart.

 

Bella and Bungo stared at their always-so-strangely-wary-of-strangers, even related ones, child clinging, however weakly, to the armoured dwarf. Their unexpected guest finally opened his eyes, though Bella could see he was barely aware of them, "He is in pain. All his bones ache. And when he eats, his belly hurts," even the beard could not disguise the utter fondness in the sad smile, "And he hates that almost more than the pain. Does not like food not being his friend." He laughed, a deep, husky sound that no hobbit could make, rocks and caverns appearing in Bella's mind, even as Bilbo's hands visibly tightened and he pulled himself even closer to his incomprehensible friend. "My food-loving ghivasha."

Bungo muttered to her, eyes fixed on his son being held by the stranger in his home, "Bella??"

Swallowing thickly, Bella whispered, "It is said that many dwarrows are born with only half their soul," the stranger's eyes opened again and caught hers and she continued with a questioning hesitation, "Bilbo.. is his One. The other half of his soul."

"Yes." The whisper was loud in the silent room, the two hobbits staring at the dwarf that watched them both with a conflicted expression. "Even through the shield I keep between us to be able to function, I felt him weakening. I.. did not know he was a hobbit; I could only follow the bond, which led me to your door."

Though he frowned, Bungo reluctantly spoke up, "He's been staring westward through the wall since he got ill. And whimpering for the last hour. He.. knew you were coming, didn't he?" The faunt wriggled weakly as though aware of the conversation, getting his nose buried into the strangely-short, for a dwarf, beard and giving another faint, pleased hum.

"Yes. From a distance I could only try to reassure him."

"You knew he was sick..." Bella swallowed hard, feeling Bungo grip her hand tight, "I hope.. I hope you realize just how- Though he was surprised Bilbo was still alive, the healer nonetheless is quite certain he will die within days."

The dwarf looked downward with unfocused eyes, unquestioning wonder in every foreign line of his face, "I do not think so. I... touching.. I am giving him my strength. I think.. I think I can feel him getting stronger already.

 

Too aware of the laws against what he was doing, and the very real reasons for them, Thorin left as soon as the presence in his mind had strengthened enough that he was certain his One would live. Bilbo! It was such a guilty bliss to have a name. To feel his One respond to its echo in his thoughts. But he still warned his parents not to tell the lad his own name, for all he'd likely 'heard' it through their bond already. Warned them that, by law, he could not have contact with Bilbo for many years to come. 

Out of fear that if something happened, the hobbits would not gain access to him with the same freedom that a dwarf would, he allowed himself to leave Erebor's signet ring with Bilbo, using a last touch to be clear as he passed on the meaning of the ring to that familiar presence in his mind, unchanged by the physical contact save for being a little stronger. And he told his parents that he was Thorin, son of Thráin, and lived in the Blue Mountains. With all that, he knew they could find him and be allowed through even the most suspicious dwarven guard.

Every step he took away from Bilbo he spent resting against his One, petting him and petted in return. He *could NOT* stay. He would hurt Bilbo and cost them their future. And his One was safe, now. They were not abandoning each other.

Even if he could actually feel distance grow between their thoughts with every league.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from here on after, you might notice the writing get rougher. This wasn't as deeply developped


End file.
